


I Wanna Get Better

by darklings (cactuuar)



Category: The Grisha Trilogy - Leigh Bardugo
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Blogging, Crushes, F/M, Friends to Lovers, High School, M/M, Multi, Sexual Tension, Unrequited Crush, aleksander is aleksander, alina is a moody teenager, nikolai is nikolai
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-31
Updated: 2016-08-31
Packaged: 2018-08-12 03:26:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,174
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7918633
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cactuuar/pseuds/darklings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Entry 54: My mission to get Ana Kuya to let me take online courses for school is still in its early stages. I've never wanted to not go to school more than now, only because a) there are two new students who can't seem to leave me alone b) Mal is absolutely no help whatsoever c) both of said transfer students are extremely tempting and d) cafeteria food is simply disgusting. [AU]</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> i've posted this to ff.net but left it 2 years ago, and i've decided to pick it back up.

_Entry 46:_

_The school year is already starting tomorrow. It's hard to believe that I've actually spent the entire summer cooped up inside on my computer - wait, no it isn't. The sarcasm is thick tonight._

_I can't exactly say I'm looking forward to this year. Then again, I've said that every year since freshman year. However, I can just_ feel _that this year is going to be disastrous. Don't ask me how I know, I just do - and I can also tell that I'll be waking up late judging by the time it is right now. Sleep is just not wanting to visit me right now, which I don't mind at all. It gives me an excuse to search up ways to avoid eye contact and ignore every human being who tries to approach me. I've said it before and I'll say it again, I do_ not _like high school. And, it isn't just high school - it's the entire human race. Now, hang on, that sounds a bit odd. I'll just level it down to people my age. Especially the girls, no, scratch that, boys included. I've researched ways to try to get my hair as glossy and fluffy as the girls in my class, I've gone on endeavors to the perfume department at Macy's, and let's not forget the horrific trip to the Lancome desk at JC Penny - and nada, zip, nothing. My stringy brown hair will remain flat and dull for as long as I'll live, and my too-pale skin will always repel anyone who steps too close. Well, anyone except Mal, but he doesn't really count._

_Well, it would seem Ana has heard my incessant typing and has threatened to throw my laptop out the 's it for today, and if I don't kill myself by tomorrow morning, expect another entry._

_A. S._

I yawned, rubbing one eye as I shut my laptop closed. The boy in the bunk above mine was snoring softly, shifting so that one of his hands fell over the edge of the bed.

I set my laptop under my bed after hooking it up to charge, and finally settled onto my side to hopefully get some sleep. The sheets were warm; my toes appreciated the extra coverage while it did my thoughts no favors. Scenarios bounced off the walls of my brain, each ending only in disaster and/or with me dying. I supposed that death would be better than junior year. I was not worried over how difficult the classes would be, no, I was worried over how badly the teasing and name-calling would be. If it were not for Mal, I'm sure that I would be six feet under.

Blogging helped, I guess. Nothing like ranting about terrible cafeteria food and skinny jeans to a bunch of strangers on the internet— and not to mention the occasional riddle. And the advice I received was more than helpful, along with the praise for my mapping and architectural skills. It was not like there was much praise to go around at the orphanage; strangers' opinions were the next best thing.

Before I knew it, I had thought myself to sleep as I did every night.

* * *

"Sticks, you'll be late if you don't get up,"

I groaned, turning to face the wall instead of the brunette standing over my bed. I heard him sigh.

"Alright, but don't get mad at me when Ana won't give you a ride to school."

I wanted to punch the triumphant smirk on his face as I dragged myself to the shower.

Malyen and I had been best friends since we had met at the orphanage. Neither of us had known our parents, and we never talked about them either— we never wanted to or had to. There was no deep, emotional past, we arrived around the same time and have gotten along since. The only difference was that he was much more healthy and able than I was. I'm the one with health problems and having to skip P.E. every day. Then again, at least I didn't have to climb that stupid rope.

After showering and getting dressed, Ana Kuya was waiting for us outside in the orphanage minivan, fingers drumming on the steering wheel impatiently. She never was a sweet woman— at least upon first glance. Dig a little deeper and drill into a few sheets of rock and you'll find a fuzzy center. Tell me about it when you reach it.

"I do _not_ have all day to wait around for you two," she snapped as Mal and I climbed inside, still munching on our breakfast apples.

"Don'f look af me," Mal said in between chews, "Schticks took four dayf to gef ready."

"I wouldn't even have to get up and cause you grief if you'd let me take online courses for school." I grumbled, taking an angry bite out of my apple.

"No chance. A girl like you could use the interaction." _A girl like me._ Ana finally started the car, pulling onto the road and yelling at whichever pedestrians dared to cross the street. I kept quiet, occupied with my apple, as was Mal— scratch that, he was busy typing away on his phone with the apple held in his mouth. He was also the more social of us both, and I had to admit I envied that fact about him (as did I every other fact about him).

While contemplating the amount of self-pity I had, the school building came into view and my stomach began doing flips. I hadn't changed my appearance or personality at all, and was that what everyone was expecting? For Alina Starkov to finally break out of her timid little shell and become the next social butterfly?

Well, they've got a big surprise in store for them.

"Don't get into trouble," The woman pointedly said towards Mal, then shifted her gaze to me, "and try to be good."

I rolled my eyes. "I'll keep Mal in check, Ana."

"And I'll try to get Alina some friends." The brunet cheekily added. I half-heartedly shoved his arm and climbed out of the van.

The large building stood before us, its windows shined and doors polished. The school flag was perched next to the statue of the school's mascot, a giant, gleaming hawk. Its talons were open and sharp, the beak curved and pointed towards whoever stood in front of it. A plaque beneath it read "Home of the Firebirds". The statue had to be the only thing I liked about the school.

Once Ana drove away, the two of us started through the crowd of students.

"Did you hear? There's a new kid transferring..."

"I heard there were _two_ new kids..."

"One's really rich! I hear he's not too bad looking, too!..."

"What about the other one? Pretty mysterious..."

New students? While the question as to why anyone would want to transfer to Ravka Public High School came up in my mind, there were also questions as to who these new students were. It was not like there was something that set us apart from other schools - if anything, we blended in too much with other public schools.

Mal piped up then, "New students, huh? Wonder if they're Alina-material."

I rolled my eyes. "I don't need friends, Mal."

"Everyone needs friends, Sticks. Sure, you don't have to be a social butterfly, but at least _someone_ besides the kid you grew up with in an orphanage."

A sigh escaped my lips, and I hiked my backpack higher onto my shoulders, picking up my pace. I heard Mal sigh behind me and I didn't check twice to see if he was still there; another girl had called his name somewhere in the crowd.

The inside of the school was just as busy as the outside. Everyone was trying to get their new lockers opened, organize their books and check out their classes before hand. I just wanted to find my locker and stuff my books inside, then find a secluded bench to hide on the internet before first period. Like I said, blogging helped.

And it wasn't like Mal's words hadn't hurt; I _know_ I don't have any friends beside him and a few other kids from the orphanage. Did he really have to go and say it out loud? His opinions mattered most to me - not that he would ever know. I keep my emotions to myself and locked in a giant box under the bed. Besides, what would a guy like him ever see in a girl like me? He probably sees me as a little sister, from the way he treats me.

I cursed under my breath. Now was not the time to get depressed over stupid things and petty crushes.

After successfully finding my locker and organizing my books in order of my classes, I sought out a quiet area in the library to pull out my laptop. There were hardly anyone here, except for the librarian sorting books, and the quiet was relaxing. I yawned and pulled up my blog, clicking on the "New Entry" button.

_Entry 47:_

_Just as I suspected, this school year is going to be a royal pain in the ass. It's not even first period and I already regret getting out of bed. I don't know why I bother with school; I can always take online courses to get my diploma and then enroll in an online college program and save Ana the gas. Plus, it would also be easier for Mal to not drag me to parties and insist on meeting some of his friends. I don't know why he had to befriend the "popular" crowd in the first place - his taste is terrible. All I have to do is convince Ana Kuya to pull me from school -_

"'It's not even first period and I regret getting out of bed. I don't know why I bother with school; I can always take online courses -'"

I slammed my laptop shut and stood, turning to face whoever was reading my entry outloud. It was a _boy,_ surprisingly, and his blond hair was cut to match military standards, with clear hazel eyes shining with amusement. _Amusement towards_ me _,_ I thought with a scowl. I would feel less intimidated if he weren't a skyscraper compared to my height. "W-Who are you?"

He was still chuckling when I found my voice. "I think the more interesting of us is you. So why don't _you_ introduce _yourself_?"

My cheeks burned, but I refused to walk away. "I'll show you interesting if you don't leave."

"Yikes, feisty," his eyebrows rose, but he kept that cheeky grin. "Nikolai Lantsov, I just transferred here this morning." He dipped his head in a mock bow.

So _he_ was one of the new kids that transferred. He didn't seem mysterious, so I guessed he must be the rich one the others were gossiping about. "Hrmph. Alina Starkov."

"Is it not a pleasure to meet me?"

I turned on my heel and started out of the library. Of course, he didn't leave me alone there.

"Well, aren't you a ray of sunshine," he muttered as he caught up to me in the bustling hallway. It was busier now that there were only a few more minutes left until first period, but that did not stop me from trying to get away from this Lantsov guy. " _I_ thought it was nice to meet you. Who's Mal, by the way?"

"His full name is _None of Your Business_ ," I replied, keeping my eyes forward and turning the corner. "And leave me alone."

Nikolai scoffed. "Looks like you have no trouble being alone."

My backpack to his face was becoming an appealing image in my head. "Do you usually pester girls when you meet them?"

"Only the pretty ones," the blond grinned; my cheeks flushed. "and the ones who play hard to get."

Finally reaching my locker, I carefully set my laptop inside and pulled out my algebra II book. "I'm not playing hard to get, I just don't like talking to people. Or, rather, people like you."

He crossed his arms over his chest, cocking his head to the side. "People like me? What's that supposed to mean?"

I didn't get to answer his question, the bell went off to signal first period. I shrugged, closing my locker and turning on my heel. "Guess we'll never find out."

With that, I prayed it would be the last time I would see Nikolai Lantsov that day, and possibly the rest of the school year.

* * *

Thankfully, I had made it through my first 4 periods without another sighting of Nikolai. I was not really bothered by his presence, I realized while doodling in my notebook in third period. He was not that different from Mal- except he was at the same time. He was more... _out there._ He wasn't afraid of saying what he thinks, and he seemed to have no filter for his words. I suppose he was just trying to be nice and make some friends, but there was a crowd he fit into already, he shouldn't be hanging out with a nobody like me. Plus, he was _way_ too good-looking to be seen with a sickly girl.

I set my bag down next to the stool I was seated on in my anatomy class, having picked out an empty lab table to sit at. I was thankful for the fact that after this period I'd be having lunch, which meant I could eat in the library and finish my blog entry. Ana packed me my favorite kind of cookies, which gave me _something_ to look forward to.

I was too absorbed in my thoughts over how Ana was able to make those cookies taste so divine that I failed to notice someone pull out the stool next to mine and set their own bag down. It was only when I caught a whiff of some _stunning_ cologne that I glanced towards whoever I was doomed to be lab partners with for the year.

I did a double-take, trying hard not to make it obvious that I was staring: cloudy gray eyes rivaling quartz, a sharp, gorgeous face and black hair that might as well have been the night sky. The comparisons were so cheesy, I had to stop myself from laughing. But that begged the bigger question: who was he and why was someone so photogenic sitting next to me?

I was afraid it would be Nikolai all over again. I kept quiet and acted like I didn't notice him, hoping he would do the same as I continued doodling in my notebook.

Then, his cool voice broke my concentration on a toad I was attempting to draw, "Don't toads have two eyes?"

His voice held a hint of amusement; I gulped. "This one lost its eye. To, um..." I couldn't believe I was actually telling him this. "a _volcra._ "

" _Volcra?"_

"These monsters that my caretaker made up when I was younger," it was easy to tell him things. Unlike Nikolai, he didn't seemed to have that flamboyant aura around him that demanded attention. "they live in the dark."

"I didn't expect talk of monsters when I took this seat," he said honestly, but with no malice, "I guess it's something different." A hand was held out towards me, "Aleksander Morozova."

"Alina Starkov." My hand met his and _dear God_ , it was as if an actual electric shock went off between us. The handshake was over too quickly for my liking, and it was then that our teacher decided to waltz in, arms full of papers.

As she began to introduce herself, a tiny, folded up scrap of paper landed on top of my notebook.

" _Tell me more about those_ volcras _?"_

This year probably wouldn't be so bad after all.


	2. Chapter 2

"Just the gal I was looking for," Nikolai's ever-confident voice said from behind me, and I didn't have the patience to talk or hurt him. When he saw that I didn't turn around, I could feel the apology in his voice. "okay, you're not _that_ cranky."

I closed my locker and began walking towards the stairwell. The only thing on my mind at that point was lunch. And Aleksander. But mostly lunch. "I wanna make it to lunch without bruising my hand," the blond touched his jaw and winced, "so what is it you need? And make it quick."

"You have lunch next? What a coincidence!" he slung an arm around my shoulder, to which I blatantly grimaced. The last thing I needed was for this guy to be sitting next to me at lunch, which was supposed to be my time to get some blogging done and not have to listen to some rich boy's problems.

"I eat lunch in the library, Nikolai," I managed to shrug his arm off once I reached the stairway. "Pretty sure a guy like you would rather eat lunch downstairs with the other 'cool kids'."

"Hm... I suppose you're right..."

_Thank God._

"But I'll have to decline that offer."

_I trusted you, God._

It took everything in me not to groan once he started going off about some problem with his brother or father or some relative. The librarian didn't notice my presence but gave a glare towards Nikolai as we went towards the back of the library, where the bean bags and fuy chairs were. Once I plopped down onto a bean bag, I opened up my lunch and started munching on my turkey sandwich.

I looked over towards Nikolai, who was lying with his stomach down on one of the bean bags and still yammering away about his rich kid problem, and noticed he was missing his lunch. I swallowed my bite of turkey sandwich and asked, "Nikolai, where's your lunch?"

"Didn't bring any." he brushed off the question. And I would be lying if I said he didn't look hungry by the way he kept eyeing my lunch bag. I was also pretty sure that it was not some monster grumbling away underneath his bean bag.

I broke off half of my sandwich and held it out. "Here."

"You don't have to do that, Alina."

"Would you prefer a knuckle sandwich?"

He took the offer with a nervous laugh. As he began to literally inhale his half of my sandwich, I decided to make conversation now that he forgot about his earlier problem. "Do you not have time in the morning to make your own lunch?"

"Well, I usually have someone make my lunches," Nikolai explained, "but ever since my parents split up, we haven't had much help around the house."

 _At least he has parents._ "Is it true you're rich?"

He laughed. "You're not afraid to ask questions, huh? Both of my parents are pretty prestigious, yeah, but since I stay with my mom, she's been pretty busy at work and keeping up appearances. She's, uh, the one who usually made my lunches."

While I was jealous, the image of Nikolai's mother taking time to make his lunches in the morning nearly made me squeal. "Must have been nice, then."

"What about you, Starkov? Is Ana Kuya your mom?"

I reached inside my lunchbag for the cookies as I answered, "No, she's the caretaker at the orphanage."

"Ah. Sorry."

"For what?" I asked, biting into one of the cookies. "There really isn't any tragic backstory to my parents, I'm fine with Mal and Ana."

He rolled onto his back, nearly falling off of the bean bag. "By the way, who is this Mal character? A brother? Cousin? Secret lover?"

I offered him a cookie, rolling my eyes at his list. "He's one of the kids who I grew up with in the orphanage. So, brother, kind of, yes."

We spent the rest of the period, surprisingly, talking and getting to know each other pretty... _pleasantly_. I supposed that when Nikolai was down to earth like this, we could get along just fine. He certainly was no Mal or Aleksander, but he _was_ different. I still could not help but think this image was a bit strange, however, as I was sure that almost everyone had gotten to know Nikolai. He was not exactly the most shy person; I wouldn't be surprised if they ared have him as prom king later on in the year.

The bell was about to ring, and as I was packing up my stuff while listening to Nikolai go off about some teacher who had apparently mispronounced his name I heard the slam of the library doors and someone shout out, "Nikolai Lantsov!"

The blond lounging on the beanbag suddenly shot up, brushing the cookie and sandwich crumbs from his jeans as a red-headed girl marched over, positively fuming. She was a bit taller than me, possibly a year older than me, as well, and she was stunningly gorgeous. Her skin was sun-kissed and her eyes were a bright golden color, and I could immediately tell that she was one of _those_ girls - who sat in the middle of the cafeteria and attracted everyone's attention. It was no surprise she seemed to know Nikolai.

"Genya!" The taller nervously laughed, opening his arms as if to hug her, "where have you been, I've been looking everywhere for—"

" _Don't_ try that with me, Lantsov," the redhead cut him off, her perfectly manicured nails slapping away his arms, "Where have you been? I've been going crazy trying to find you all over the school, and I find you here with..." She turned to me, as if suddenly realizing my existence. "Hello."

"Um, is he...yours?" I pointed towards Nikolai.

She laughed a tinkling laugh— I had no idea if it were genuine or not. "No, but I _am_ supposed to be showing him around. After all, the son of the principal needs a well-done tour of Ravka High."

I blinked, then blinked some more. Was the actual rumored son of our Principal standing right in front of me? Did I really just share my sandwich with him?

"Well, gee, Genya, you ruined the surprise." Nikolai chided, stuffing his hands into his pockets. "Well, Starkov, you found me out."

"Starkov?" Genya turned towards me, reaching to close my gaping mouth before I swatted her hand away. "You're Mal's sister, right?"

"Er...not exactly," I replied, hiking my backpack onto my shoulders. "Well, it was nice meeting you, um, Genya, and," I glanced towards Nikolai before beginning to leave, "you, too, Nikolai."

* * *

I made quick strides towards the doors, wanting nothing more than to get to my next class and end this day already. Nikolai was already a handful to deal with, but now that he's the principal's _son..._ I sighed and quickened my pace towards my locker.

It wasn't as if the principal was a _bad_ guy. Well, I'm lying. No one knows much about him, just that he's maybe in his forties or fifties, a bit bigger and missing a chin, plus his nose is possibly full of broken blood vessels. I honestly could not see the resemblance between Nikolai and and the Principal - perhaps he got more of his mother's genes.

Genya, as it turns out, happened to be in my history class. She nearly lunged for the desk next to mine in the back of the room once she saw me doodling in my notebook. I tried not to notice her, but she made it hard - grabbing my notebook from my desk and flipping through my notes, for one - so I had no choice but to talk to her. And I know I say it like it was a bad thing, and I do not mean that Genya is a bad person, it's just that she was so... _different._ Different is not a bad thing, but the people I usually talk to (and they are limited) are a lot more reclusive and quiet. I'm just making all sorts of friends today.

I had to admit, she knew her fashion and gossip. Half the things she spoke about I had no idea happened in this school, especially the more scandalous things. Her laugh was tinkling, and after an entire class period with her, I could tell it was genuine - her laughter towards my obliviousness. Apparently I was the first person to never have had alcohol before at age sixteen.

"So, Alina, are you busy after school? Please tell me you aren't," Genya asked as we walked to our lockers.

"Well..." _I had blogging in mind, so does that count as being busy?_ "I guess not."

She squealed, her fluffy hair bouncing on her shoulders as she literally hopped. "Maybe I can do something about that hair! Or those pale cheeks!"

I cringed at the mention of a makeover, but shrugged away my distaste for the sake of her excitement. Upon opening my locker, Genya's manicured fingernail poked me in the side, and she grabbed my arm to make me face whatever she was facing. Aleksander was at his locker, a hand casually in his pocket while the other was working his combination.

"That's one of the new kids, right?"

"Aleksander?" I raised an eyebrow towards her sudden change in tone, "yeah, he's in my anatomy class."

"Alexander?" she wrinkled her nose.

"It's with a K. Like, A-L-E-K-S-A-N-D-E-R."

She wrinkled her nose even more.


	3. Chapter 3

Weeks went by, and as much as I hate to admit it, school went fine. Genya was not that bad of a person, and after getting tired of waiting for her to do something to prove my hope wrong, I settled for her friendship. She was the opposite of me: she was loud, I was quiet. She loved talking, I hated it. She preferred whip cream and sugar in her coffee, I preferred my coffee black and plain. But, somehow, we managed to form a somewhat even relationship. 

Nikolai finally seemed to merge with the popular crowd, as did Aleksander. I knew it was too good to be true for them to actually think of me as something close, and now that they found where they belong it’ll save me a lot of grief. Now that I had Genya, I felt as if Mal and everyone else would finally leave me alone and not think of me as “that” girl. Once Mal knew of Genya, he literally jumped for joy. Ana even made me celebratory cookies after school. Needless to say it was indeed a lot of praise for something pretty useless.

I kept Aleksander and Nikolai to myself. I did not want Ana giving me glares over how much time I spent with boys other than Mal, and I  _ definitely  _ did not want Mal being the protective big brother in this picture. Especially when I thought of him as something more. 

"Alina," Genya said one day during our lunch period, "we've got to get you to one of my parties." 

 I almost spit up the grape juice I was drinking. "Excuse me? _ Party?"  _

“Yes!” her golden eyes shone with even more excitement than usual, “I throw a costume party every year for Halloween; you should come. I can pick out your costume and everything - we can have a sleepover the night before!”

My grape juicebox ran dry. “Woah, okay, let’s... okay, first off, Mal has been to your parties, and judging by the smell of booze every year, I’m not so sure it’s a party I wanna be at. Second, I think I’m busy on Halloween.”

She squinted, hooking a strand bright red hair onto her finger. “Oh, yeah?”

“Afraid so.”

“With what?”

“The - um, kids at the orphanage usually - they usually go out trick or treating. Someone needs to

stay behind and...pass out candy.” I avoided her glower by busying myself with my sandwich. It was hard to make excuses with Genya; she either made big, watery puppy eyes or saw straight through the lie with laser eyes. 

The redhead clucked her tongue, leaning on her elbows. “Well, that’s a shame. Since Aleksander’s new here, I made sure to get him to come... Nikolai said he would definitely swing by, too.”

My chews slowed, and I brought my eyes up to hers. 

“Oh, well! Guess I’ll just keep ‘em both company the  _ whole _ night...”

_ Alina Starkov, do  _ not _ let yourself give into her.  _

“Music, dancing, cute costumes -  _ matching  _ costumes, even...”

_ ou can blog all night and eat all the candy you want! The music’s probably terrible at the party. _

“Then we’re gonna need to crash somewhere for the night... maybe in my room, all alone, just the three of us -”

_ I’m gonna regret this. _

_ “Alright.”  _ I took a rather aggressive bite of my sandwich, rolling my eyes at Genya’s shout of victory. “I hate it when you do that.”

“What? Get you hooked up?” A manicured hand flipped a bushel of bouncy red curls over her shoulder. “You’ll thank me later, Lina.” 

“And if I don’t?”

“You have permission to dye my hair a different color.”

* * *

 

I stood in front of the tall, mahogany mirror of Genya’s bedroom, at an utter lack for words. I had been in Genya’s mansion before, so the beautiful furniture and numerous rooms did not make my jaw drop anymore - I was in awe over my  _ costume.  _

Genya came to stand next to me, leaning on my shoulder with her arm. “So, what do you think?”

_ What do I think? _ I had envisioned the classic Halloween costume: the naughty angel, the sexy devil, a frisky cat, but what she had conjured up for me was the definition of thinking of out of the box. My hair had been done into a braid and then twisted into a bun (after vigorous washing, however), and she had applied a light red lipstick and soft orange eyeshadow after applying foundation to my pale skin to make it warmer. The costume itself was of a fortune-teller, made mainly of a shiny orange robe, stopping a few inches above the knee. Another shiny, deep red robe was draped over my shoulders and went to the floor, trailing onto the ground behind me. Genya was stumped for shoes, so I donned simple black ballet flats to contrast with the warm colors. A mask resembling a jackal topped off the entire costume. 

“Are you seriously asking me that?” I sputtered, adjusting the mask over my eyes. “It’s the most creative thing I’ve ever worn. Or  _ seen.”  _

“You’re just saying that,” the redhead waved my compliment off as she took a step away from me. She pointed at me and twirled her pointer finger around, “give me a twirl!”

I complied, relishing in the silky feel of the robes against my skin. “You didn’t have to do this, you know.”

Her curls bounced as she shook her head and gave me a quick squeeze of my shoulders, “Nonsense, Lina! I saw an opportunity to show how gorgeous you look underneath all that  _ bitterness _ and I had to take it! Plus, I couldn't help myself from using those tips I found on Pinterest." 

"You're literally a suburban mom addicted to Pinterest." 

We giggled before the doorbell cut us off, startling us. I suddenly felt sick to my stomach, but Genya was anything but nervous. She was already wearing her costume: a tailor. However, it was more of a tailor for a queen or something royal like that, seeing as she was just as decked out in as much robes and sashes as I was. Her hair was left down, and after curling ever strand, she had decided to take it easy with the make up (for the first time in... I don't even know how long she's been wearing make up), leaving her costume to do the "talking" as she put it. She even had one of those plush tomatoes with pins sticking out of it, and had a paper measuring tape around her neck. Fake glasses completed the look. 

As she dashed off to answer the door, I gave myself one last twirl before looking out of her bedroom window which overlooked the front of the house. Hopefully it was someone I knew— 

The ham sandwich I had had earlier almost came back up as I quickly scurried away from the window. Of course,  _ of course  _ one of the first guests would be Nikolai, what with his newly acquired status as "Prince" of the school and all. I supposed he needed to keep up appearances. 

I heard Genya calling my name while I took a few deep breaths to calm my nerves (and stomach), and groaned.  _ Leave it to Genya to get straight to the matchmaking,  _ I thought with a roll of my eyes as I started downstairs. 

"Wait, where's Starkov?" Nikolai grinned cheekily when I reached the bottom of the staircase. "Is she coming down behind this beautiful stranger?" 

I pulled the mask off my eyes, settling it on the top of my head instead. " _ Ha ha,  _ very funny, Lantsov. Or should I say  _ pirate? _ " 

“I prefer the term  _ privateer _ .” The person who stood before me was not Nikolai Lantsov. No, the boy who stood before me was a completely different person— instead of the charming, downright alluring blond stood an equally charming and alluring redhead with dull green eyes and a broken nose (which I hoped wasn’t  _ really _ broken). He was decked in “privateer” clothes, which basically consisted of a blue pirate’s coat, golden vest, cream colored and puffy shirt, brown pants and tall brown boots. He looked too young to be a captain, let alone a  _ privateer _ . 

“Don’t try to make yourself sound fancier, Nikolai. You’re a pirate.” 

“A dashing pirate, if I may add.” Genya giggled, turning to check on the pastries set out for the party. 

I scoffed, turning to go back up the stairs. “Genya, let me know when someone less of an asshole gets here.”

“Like  _ Aleksander? _ ” She replied in a sing-song voice, and I whipped around to try to grab her neck. “Ack! Easy with the hair!” 

"Aleksander? That kid who hangs around Zoya and her crew?" The redhead rolled his eyes and plucked a bag of M&M's from one of the trays set out for the party. "I didn't know you talked to him."

"I don't," I might have answered too quickly judging by his raised eyebrows, "he's just in my anatomy class. And my lab partner."  _ And one of the best-smelling people I know.  _ His cologne could make me lose my train of thought for days. 

Before Nikolai or Genya could ask about Aleksander and how I had come to meet him, the doorbell rang, and half of the student body came flooding in clad in costume. With that, the night officially began: music began playing, food was devoured, booze was introduced, and I was swept up in the crowd of teenagers.

* * *

 

The pastries Genya had set out were definitely some of her best— well, her chef's best. The last time she had tried to cook, my hair had paid the price. I suppose she made up for it with this costume, even if no one here recognizes me as the scrawny, bitter girl from school. 

I was munching on a strawberry tart while chatting with the redhead when I saw him— tall, dark, and  _ absolutely  _ out of my league: Aleksander. I would have choked on my tart were it not for Genya patting me on the back. He had to be dressed as some mystical figure, because with that silk, elegant black robe and tall black boots, he could honestly make any girl fall under his spell. I nearly gagged at my own thoughts, but I could not stop them from gushing out of me, nor could I stop myself from staring.

"That's him, isn't it?" Genya whispered. 

"I think so. I wonder what he's dressed up as." 

"You should talk to him!" She nudged my shoulder and winked. "Plus, with your costume, conversation will be easy to keep up. He won't be able to stop talking about how great it looks on you." 

I fiddled with one of my sleeves. "You're crazy. He hasn't even looked this way— and I don't need  _ his _ validation." 

"Alright, miss Feminist, you're right about that, but this isn't asking for validation, you just wanna know if he likes it or not. If he likes  _ you  _ or not—"

"He doesn't like me because I don't like him." I quickly cut her off, grabbing another tart from the table and stuffing it in my mouth. "So that's the end of that." 

Before Genya could come up with another excuse to get me to talk to him, Mal's mop of blond hair came into view and I opted to seek him out. Who knows, maybe seeing me dressed up like this will make him realize that I'm possibly the girl of his dreams— or at least make him give me a compliment. 

The amount of people who showed up to this party was insane; there were even  _ freshman  _ here. If even freshmen were invited, how stupid am I to not show up when  _ Mal _ would invite me. Weaving my way through the crowd as tricky, seeing as my costume had a train behind me, but since most of the people could not recognize me, they were extra polite. Now that I knew make-up could work wonders for me, I might start wearing it everyday from now on. 

Mal was talking to one of Genya's friends, Zoya, when I finally reached him. Zoya had that kind of authoritative aura around her, and her personality could go from the sweetest person you know to the biggest bitch you've ever had the displeasure of meeting. For me, it was mostly the second attitude. For guys like Mal, it was the first attitude— her lips would pucker up and her eyes would go really big, her hair perfectly curled, her tan skin seemingly kissed by the sun itself. For me, it was always a scowl or disgusted grunt, plus a scrunch of her nose. Either way, I'm not sure how Genya or Mal can get along with her. 

"Mal," I all but wheezed as I finally reached him, "You made it, after all."

"Yeah, I did," he gave me a once-over, keeping a smile on his face despite his obvious confusion.

"Have we met?"

I noticed Zoya looked on with slight annoyance. I moved the mask from my eyes gently so as to not ruin Genya's craftsmanship. "Mal, it's me— Alina. The girl you grew up with?"

The blonde blinked a few more times before nearly dropping his punch. He ran a hand through his hair, dropping apologies by the second while he marvelled at my costume. While I felt extremely flattered, I began to get flustered by both his compliments and Zoya's growing glare.

"What are you supposed to be, anyways?" Mal asked, setting his cup down on the table behind him. 

"Genya said it's a fortune teller's outfit. Don't ask me how she comes up with this stuff." I gave a half smile, shrugging. I gestured to his clothes, which really weren’t all that different from what he usually wore. The only thing that was different was the toy gun slung around his arm, and the black vest over his plaid shirt. “What are you?”

“I settled for a hunter,” he replied, glancing down towards his costume. “It was kind of last minute. I know it’s lame compared to last year.”

“What were you last year?” Zoya piped up, nearly stepping in front of me completely. Her voice was like ice. 

Mal got into a conversation about how great his costume as a firebird was last year, and Zoya clearly didn’t want me there, so I decided to take my leave and find Genya or Nikolai. It shouldn’t have hurt me as much as it did to be basically kicked out of the conversation like that, but for some reason it did. I  _ knew  _ Mal. Who did that Zoya think she was, anyways? So what if I’m not super model pretty like she is, I’m still a person, and I—

“Alina?” 

— was now face to face with Aleksander himself. I had moved from the main room to the deck outside, but I clearly wasn’t watching where I was going. I looked up and met his smoky eyes, and my stomach did a somersault. Despite the hammering in my chest, I managed not to look totally psyched to see him. His costume was  _ really  _ something; I’m surprised Genya hasn’t hounded him about who made it. “Aleksander, I didn’t know you were gonna show up.”

“I don’t really like parties, but I figured I could meet more people this way,” he said, and  _ dear God his cologne smelled divine from where I was standing.  _ “You look amazing, by the way, did you make that yourself?”

“Would you be more impressed if I said yes?” I asked, to which he laughed. “Genya made it for me. Said it was a fortune teller, or something.”

He nodded, then seemed to think about something. Then, he pulled off one of his gloves and held out his hand, palm facing up. “Well, fortune teller, do your magic.”

I almost laughed, smiling. “Fortune tellers don’t read palms, you know.” 

“Make an exception, for me?” 

_ Yikes, okay, Alina, stay cool. He’s obviously flirting with you,  _ I thought, swallowing back embarrassment. “Alright, but be warned I have no idea what I’m doing.” 

I gently held his hand with one of mine while the other lightly traced the lines on his palm. I briefly remembered having my palm read once when I was younger, but I couldn’t remember what each line meant. Did the longer ones mean a longer life? Or was that just your heart line? Wasn’t the heart line was the shorter one, or the middle one? 

“Um...” I mentally cursed Aleksander.  _ Palm reading? Is this really sexy? Really?  _ “This one means you’ll live a long life.” I pointed to a long line running near the middle of his palm before pointing to a shorter one. “And this one means you’re... going to find love?” I drew out the last word, unsure of myself. 

He raised an eyebrow, an amused smile on his face. “Really? Where?”

I pretended to think, pursing my lips. “Somewhere near you. It will be someone you won’t think of, or even guess.” 

“Very interesting.” Aleksander drew his hand back, pulling his glove back on. “I’d say you have a bright future of palm reading ahead of you, Alina.” 

I bowed dramatically, robes pooling at my feet. “A thousand thank yous. I hope to attend palm reading university.” 

He chuckled, covering his mouth. I stood back up, and he offered his arm. “Before that, will you care to accompany me to the rest of the party?”

I nearly did a double take, but quickly brushed my surprise off. I nodded, looping my arm through his. “I would like nothing more.”


End file.
